


Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Snowmobile Repair

by arrow (esteefee)



Category: due South
Genre: April Showers Challenge, First Time, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-15
Updated: 2008-07-15
Packaged: 2017-10-17 12:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/arrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray teaches Fraser how to change his fork oil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Snowmobile Repair

**Author's Note:**

> Ratio of snowmobile maintenance to slut-ridden porn is negligible, I'm afraid.
> 
>  
> 
> Warning: Improbable floor sex.

The third time the infuriating little clip ejected itself from the metal tube and flung its way across the floor, Ray slapped Fraser's back and said, "Okay, that's it, Einstein. I'm taking over." He rose to retrieve the clip once again, his hair picking up the glint of the lamplight.

Fraser held back his flash of temper with some effort. What had appeared to be a simple maintenance job was turning into an epic opportunity for humiliation and frustration.

"No, Ray. I need to learn this—"

"Yeah, but there's learning, and then there's beating your head against a wall," Ray said, and he tried to pull the fork tube from Fraser's hand. "Careful, you're going to get fork oil all over the floor."

"How can I learn if you won't let me fail?" Fraser said, trying to sound reasonable. He refused to relinquish to the tube. "Do you know how my father taught me to start a fire? When I was six years old he took me out into the woods and left me alone with some kindling and a piece of flint."

Ray stopped wrestling him for control. "Oh, that's just brilliant. Really smart thinking. Your dad was some kind of piece of work."

"That's simply how things are done up here," Fraser said, feeling his back stiffen.

"Yeah, huh? Well, I got a news flash for you, buddy—things are done that way because that's how people do things. But if we do things a _different_ way—" With a sly twist, Ray filched the tube from Fraser's hand. "—then _that_ will be how things are done. Get it?"

Ray's logic, faulty as it was, made a certain amount of sense, and Fraser watched, defeated, as with a deft flex of his fingers Ray seated the oil seal and then slipped in the stubborn retainer clip with a faint, but solid, _click._

 __He really made it look so easy.

"You make it look so easy," Fraser said. Also, Ray made it look beautiful—his hands a dance of harmony and competence.

"That's because it _is_ ," Ray said, "but it's not easy to _learn_. Get the difference?"

Fraser nodded, a little distracted by the wiry flex of Ray's forearms, muscles moving beneath his pale-gold skin as he tested the give of the newly-repaired fork.

"You want to know how my dad taught me? He made me watch him do it, and then showed me how to do it on my own motorcycle, over and over, and finally I managed to do it myself just once. And then, the next year, he showed me all over again, real patiently, because by then I'd already forgotten how to do it. So, see, there's ways to learn that don't involve—"

Ray's voice cut off abruptly, but it was the sudden stillness of his hands that brought Fraser back to awareness. And he didn't even have a good excuse for his distraction, really, because by then Ray was simply using some hand lotion and a towel to clean his fingers of the oil.

"Huh." That was Ray's voice, filled with altogether too much understanding. Heat rose along Fraser's neck when he realized he was uncomfortably, obviously aroused, his momentary fantasy of Ray's fingers touching him having had that effect.

"Perhaps we should put the fork back on now," Fraser said hastily, but Ray's hand was already traveling to rest on Fraser's jean-clad thigh.

There was a moment of silence, heavy with the weight of Ray's hand, of Ray's eyes on him with nervous calm. Fraser's brain stuttered indecisively, trapped between embarrassment and dawning hope. Finally, just as he sensed Ray was about to withdraw his hand, Fraser placed his own on top. Ray's skin was smooth and silky with the traces of lotion.

"I don't know how to do _this_ , either," Fraser whispered, somewhat appalled by the shakiness of his voice. He looked up, and caught the charged brilliance of Ray's smile right between the eyes.

"Well, I always figured that much," Ray said. "Good thing we got the manual, huh?" But then he leaned over and kissed Fraser, lips sealing against Fraser's as they were meant to fit there. And then his tongue teased into Fraser's mouth, and Fraser was almost certain none of this was covered in _Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Snowmobile Repair_ , but he opted not to mention it to Ray, whose oily fingers were already creeping into the front of Fraser's jeans.

Slick hands, strong and knowing and very, very competent. Fraser shuddered as the first, overwhelming sensations besieged him, and he flailed out to grab a handful of Ray's shirt, anchoring Ray's lips against his before he was lost.

"Jesus, Frase," Ray mumbled against him, and then he pulled Fraser down on top him. Somehow he had contrived to open their pants, and Fraser's zipper caught him painfully as he instinctively thrust down against the heat of Ray's erection.

Fraser stifled a gasp of pain, but Ray gave a wry chuckle. "I guess there's more to it than we thought."

"Ray, _please_." Fraser pushed a little frantically at the tangle of their jeans, and Ray helped until they were undressed below the waist and Fraser could sink between Ray's muscular thighs and press hard against him. Ray's erection was trapped next to Fraser's balls, rubbing there appealingly. Apparently the maneuver worked for Ray, as well, since he wrapped his ankles around Fraser's thighs and writhed upward.

Fraser found it glorious—the sensation of being tangled with Ray, of holding him down and thrusting. He licked the moans from Ray's lips until Ray raised his head and kissed him, hard, and then Ray was groaning, melting, his cock jerking and pumping warm and wet.

Perhaps there was less to this than Fraser had thought.

Ray heaved, and Fraser had a moment of disorientation as he was turned, and then Ray was kneeling above him, looking disheveled and beautiful. He ran his tongue against his lower lip, and then rubbed at his lower belly where his semen sprinkled the golden skin below his shirt.

"Oh, Ray," Fraser said, feeling breathless. He stopped breathing altogether when Ray took him into his slick hand and started stroking his erection.

"I like it when—do you like this?" Ray asked as he slid his other hand low behind Fraser's balls, pressing with wet fingers, pressing up and then _in_ , and Fraser's back arched involuntarily at the sensation of being penetrated.

"Dear God, yes," Fraser gasped. Ray smiled and stroked and thrust his fingers deeper, exploring him inside, green-blue eyes gleaming with curiosity while he continued to manipulate Fraser's body. Fraser heard himself keening, and then he was coming helplessly, ejaculating over his chest and stomach, clenching on the strong fingers inside him, Ray's other hand milking him slowly.

"Yeah. Yeah, Fraser," Ray said. He continued to move his fingers, more gently now, and when he twisted them deep inside, Fraser felt himself convulse again, his cock twitching uselessly. He tried to gasp a desperate plea for Ray to stop, but it came out as an embarrassing moan of approval, and Ray didn't stop—Ray leaned down to kiss him, his fingers still inside.

"That is the hottest goddamned thing I have _ever_ seen," Ray said, his voice like gravel. The rough edges of it shivered along Fraser's nerves. "Guess I didn't need a manual after all."

Fraser shook his head. No, Ray surely didn't. He seemed to know instinctively exactly how to play Fraser's body, in ways Fraser himself had no knowledge of. Even now, Ray's fingers still moved inside him, testing, seeking. Fraser's knee rose of its own volition to give Ray better access, to let him go deeper.

"Oh, _man,_ " Ray said. "That's—Christ—" He kissed Fraser again, his tongue heavy and sweet and pushing in, following the rhythm of Ray's fingers until Fraser was shuddering, his whole body beginning to heat with renewed desire. He put his hand on Ray's back, sliding it up under Ray's shirt, wanting to have his turn to learn, to explore, but Ray's movements were insistent, distracting, and gradually Fraser relaxed.

Three fingers were now inside him, yet he felt no pain, just a comforting fullness, and with every deep stroke he felt his body clutch hungrily for sensation.

"Fraser, Frase..." Ray's breathing had turned ragged. Fraser turned his head and kissed him, trying to soothe, but Ray moaned and pulled away to whisper in his ear, "I want to be in you, Fraser— _Benton_ —" Ray's fingers turned and pushed in again. "Can I? D'you think you can you take it?"

 _Take it? Oh._ Take _him._ Ray wanted Fraser to take his cock inside him, inside where his fingers were— _deeper_. To know that. To know Ray in that way—

"Yes. Yes, Ray. Yes."

On the third _yes_ , Ray groaned and pulled his fingers out smoothly. He rolled to the side, and Fraser saw him fumbling for the tube of hand lotion he'd been using. More importantly, the pale curve of Ray's buttock was revealed just below the edge of his flannel shirt, and Fraser reached out to put his palm there and stroke the sleek skin and hard muscle.

Ray made a sound, almost lascivious in nature, and then chuckled. "You'll get your turn," he said. Fraser wanted to tell him that wasn't his meaning—he'd only want to learn Ray there. Everywhere.

"Take off your shirt," Fraser said instead, his voice ridiculously husky, and Ray grinned and tried to yank it over his head. The bottle in his hand stopped the sleeve from coming off, and he handed it to Fraser.

Fraser cracked open the top and started to pour some into his hand, but was instantly distracted by all the pale skin Ray was revealing to him. The view was familiar from their travels and hasty changes in the frigid tent, but now Fraser could look his fill, could feast his eyes on Ray's hard brown nipples and freckled torso. So much smooth, pale skin—

"I think that's plenty," Ray said, laughing. Fraser looked down and realized he had filled his hand with lotion. He awkwardly closed the lid against his side and then reached out toward Ray, drinking in his gasp of pleasure as Fraser slathered the lotion on his cock.

Fraser reveled in the firm warmth in his hand, in the slick, soft head, until Ray said, "Plenty, all right," and tugged his hand away. "Now, how the hell do we—?"

"I think if I—" Fraser rolled back and pulled Ray closer. "Here, like this—?"

But the angle was all wrong, and Fraser's legs were in the way. Ray gave a grunt of dissatisfaction and then pushed Fraser's knees toward his chest. He clutched them reflexively, feeling ridiculous, but Ray shuffled closer on his knees and gathered up Fraser's hips.

He felt a nudge between his buttocks, and instinct made him freeze up. But Ray leaned down and kissed him, and his fingers, familiar and wanted, stroked inside Fraser once again. He knew this. He wanted this, and when the crown of Ray's cock took the place of his fingers, Fraser tilted his head back and relaxed into the safety of Ray's hands.

Pressure, and then a glorious feeling of reaching, of being filled, of holding Ray intimately within his body. Fraser shuddered with the force of it, and Ray murmured something soothing, but Fraser just wrapped his legs around Ray's waist to pull him in closer, deeper, where he belonged.

Ray gasped, "God, Fraser," and thrust hard until he was fully within him. The movement sparked that place inside him, and Fraser felt his body clutch and convulse again, his cock jerking feebly on his stomach. Ray moaned and leaned over him, weight on his palms, and began to move, his strong shoulders flexing with each thrust.

It was like riding a sled, Fraser thought, somewhat incoherently—the sway and the sweet rhythm and the pleasure— _Oh, God, the pleasure—_ and just as he had taught Ray to ride a sled, Ray was teaching him this incredible new thing. Except he was the one being ridden. The thought almost made him want to laugh, but instead he choked on a swell of emotion, and he clutched Ray to him tighter, until Ray was barely moving, just rocking inside him.

"Jesus, Fraser," Ray was saying, "God, I need to come—"

It took very little thought, after the way Ray had plied his body with pleasure. Fraser's fingers were still slick with the lotion, so he went up on one elbow, curling closer, and slipped his hand between Ray's buttocks so he could stroke and slide his fingers there, into the secret heart of him.

It was warm, and tight, and Ray groaned loudly and squeezed down, then thrust forward. Fraser felt the strange pulse inside him, a jerking and then warmth, while Ray shuddered and then panted in his ear.

"That was amazing," Ray said breathlessly, collapsing on top of him, a warm, sweaty armful. " _You're_ amazing."

"No, I—" Fraser ran a thumb along Ray's jaw-line. The stubble rasped under his finger, and Ray sighed. Fraser had to swallow once before continuing, "You are, Ray. You're like no one—you're a gift."

Ray made a sound, almost like a laugh, but his body trembled a little within Fraser's embrace. "I think you got me confused with you." And then he kissed Fraser once fiercely, his eyes bright and open. "You're a quick learner, you know that?"

 _Not really_ , Fraser wanted to say. Or maybe his body was. His mind was usually much slower on the uptake.

But he knew Ray now, with body and heart and mind, and he would never, ever forget.

///

"We should go to the library," Ray said later, after they had cleaned up and fed a reproachful Diefenbaker. Ray handed Fraser the ten-millimeter socket wrench. "They might have some useful, uh, information and the like."

"On snowmobile repair?" Fraser asked, his tongue straying to the inside of his cheek. Carefully, he spun the nut on the bolt holding the fork, and then started tightening it with the wrench.

Ray shot him a mock frown, and then the curve of his mouth lifted into a grin. He nudged Fraser with his elbow. "I was thinking more along the lines of _The Gay Kama Sutra._ Or maybe we should start easy, say with _Gay Sex for Dummies_."

"Oh, I don't know, Ray—" Fraser made one last turn and then put down the wrench. "I think some things are best learned on your own."

"Or with a partner."

Fraser kissed the sly smile. "Or with a _very_ good partner."

  
......................  
2008.07.15

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://nos4a2no9.livejournal.com/profile)[**nos4a2no9**](http://nos4a2no9.livejournal.com/) for the encouragement and canon points.
> 
> I really did once spend hours trying to get the fork oil seal clip seated in my fork tube. Turns out there's a special tool you can buy that does it lickety-split, but I have a feeling those aren't readily available in the Territories.


End file.
